The following story, rambling as it may be, are my thoughts from Tuesday. I was an introvert desperate for a little detox time and no way to get it, as I was forced to spend the day in a mall waiting for the Apple people to change out my phone battery. As I sat in the mall, I purged my thoughts in an effort to detox and calm the anxiety.
Just sitting in a fairly empty mall anticipating all the people who would eventually show up is causing me great anxiety. The drive (over an hour) was fine until the traffic began to close in as I neared the city. Even traffic can cause sensory overload for an introvert. Normally, driving is relaxing but I find that as I spend less time behind the wheel, (hubby likes to drive) driving on the crowded interstate bothers me. I find myself using GPS to guide me to places I already know the way to because for some reason, I find comfort in the temporary companion that I can turn off and on at my leisure.
I like schedules and after waiting in a line with strangers, only to have someone tell me that the computer showed my assigned time as two and a half hours later than my phone scheduled appointment didn’t help my anxiety. Introvert on sensory overload worked in my favor because where I may have once said, “Ok. I’ll be back,” I immediately said, “I don’t think so.” That may have scared the guy. Who knows? He looked up and I told him that I had a 10:00 appointment and he said, “No. The computer is showing 12:30.”
I said, “No. My appointment is at 10 am. I called and set up this appointment. I drove over an hour to get here on time.”
He said, “No mam, 12:30.”
I said, “No. 10 am.”
He said, “Wait here while I check.”
Then, he came back and said that I had a 10 am appointment. While standing there waiting, I overheard the people in line behind me saying they didn’t have appointments and were dropping off their phones so I quickly asked if their phones would be placed in line before mine since my appointment wasn’t until 10 and they didn’t have appointments. He said, “Yes.”
I may have frightened him even more, when I said, “I have a 10 am appointment, but was told if I got here earlier, my phone would be in line earlier.”
He didn’t even argue with me. He said, “Wait here while I find out.” Luckily for him, he told me that my phone would be ahead of theirs. He could have fibbed, but it worked. He then gave me a pickup time of 12:30. I didn’t argue that one and probably much to his relief, I just said thank you.
I wasn’t happy to begin with because Apple had no right to do what they did with the phones. And, then, inform me in an email that my battery was available at the New Orleans store and I had seven days to claim it or it would be given to someone else. I thought it quite nervy. Apple did this and then practically threaten to give my battery away if I didn’t comply. On top of that, I had already had several busy days and really needed a quiet day to just detox. Instead, I had to spend the day in a noisy mall.
This post is a little random because I decided to just follow my writing as I rambled that day, and not reconstruct the story so you will notice the tense change as the day went on.
When I arrived (and surprise! Ahead of schedule!) at the Apple Store, I was a little surprised to see the door to the store barely open and being guarded by four employees with several other employees going through the line of people and assigning them places to stand according to the reason they were there. The first thought running through my mind was, “Geez! Look how many people!” I got in line with the rest and when it was my turn, the conversation you read above was exactly how it went. Never mess with an introvert when they need to detox. Remember the behavior of the little two-year-old at home? The reaction you get may just be the same.
I really question if there really is anything such as the “terrible twos” or if those kids are just introverts on overload. Think about it. They get invited to a party. They are all excited and love picking out the gift and then getting dressed for the party. But, as the time draws near, their attitudes begin to shift just slightly and they slow down. Then, you may have to coax them into the car and by the time you get to the party, they have changed their mind, they do not want to go and when they walk into the party and see the chaos, they start to cry. They want to go home and of course, you’ve made it that far, there is no way you are going home so you coax them to join in. Their attitude really rears its ugly head at that point. Parents, just give up. The child needs quiet time, not a party.
For years I hosted a cookie exchange. Each year I’d start planning in March and would be full of excitement. Everyone was still talking about the last one and looking forward to the upcoming one (not until December). By the time party time rolled around, everything planned, and invitations sent out, I would start slowing down. My introvert-self began thinking about spending hours with people (even though they were all good friends) and my mind would begin plotting how much energy I needed to store up before I could cope with the party, how much time before I’d have quiet again. I can remember this happening to me as a child and not much has changed. It doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy gatherings with friends, I just need mental time to prepare; a trait of an introvert.
Getting back to my day, I spotted a bench not far from the store, sat, and pulled out my Kindle and tried to mentally prepare for the onslaught of noise to come as the mall filled up with shoppers. What surprised me were the number of mothers with their children in tow. As I sat there, I had the urge to act like a reporter and ask, “Why?” As a mom, that would have been the last place you would have found me with a young child, especially that early. I do, however, remember spending hours in the bookstore with my daughters as they grew up. They couldn’t wait to get their allowance and head straight to the bookstore. After hours perusing books, we’d head to a little shop for pretzels and icees before heading home.
The stores began opening and the noise increased as the employees raised the security rails and propped open doors and rolled signs out announcing the daily sales. It made me happy that I had tossed my Filofax into my bag before heading out that morning. As the need to channel anxiety rose and to quiet the voices in my head (introverts always have voices in their heads) I exchanged my Kindle for paper and pen and began to write.
There are kids in school uniforms grabbing a bite to eat. I wonder if the moms knew they stopped off at the mall before heading to school. There are a few people who appear to be morning walkers. I thought about possibly walking, but the thought was quickly extinguished as I had grown used to my spot and was hesitant to exit my temporary comfort zone.
Too close for comfort, there is a train for the children to ride and as a new noise joined the mix, I looked up to see a mother and her child riding around the track. I thought that perhaps that was the reason they came to the mall early – to enjoy a ride together before the mall filled up.
Across the way is a Cafe du Monde, a landmark of New Orleans. I noticed that the shop and outside seating area were quite full and even though I had skipped breakfast and would have loved to indulge in beignets, a New Orleans delicacy, I scratched the idea.
As time passed and the rumbling in my stomach continued to make itself known, I once again glanced over toward the little pastry shop. This time I noticed that most of the patrons had moved on. It had been several years since I had tasted this Southern delicacy and was delighted to see that the morning crowd had disbursed. The introvert in me still hesitated to move from my safe place on the bench. As introverts are prone to do, I ran thru the scenario in my head a few times before I finally tucked my writing into my bag and rose from the bench to make my way to the shop.
As I entered, I quickly spotted an empty table in a quiet corner and hoped it would still be available once I made my purchase. As luck would have it, I placed my order and was able to claim that table as my own. From there, I was able to enjoy my pastry and discretely people watch.
I alternated between reading, writing this story – by hand – and being amazed by the many people who enjoyed the wonderful little pastry we call the “beignet.” I was also able to “plot” my course back to the Apple store and then back out to the parking lot.
It is odd how introverts will do this. I used to think it odd, but after reading tons of research on introverts, I realize it is quite common. I don’t feel so different any longer. I actually feel quite normal!
It is easy in such a small area to overhear conversations, even though the voices inside our own heads rarely take a break – a secret about introverts, we rarely “need” to have conversations because there are a lot of conversations already going on in our heads.
There are parents with children stopping in for a latte while assuring the little one who is whining to ride the train, that as soon as mommy gets her coffee, the train ride will be next. There are a couple of older ladies sharing coffee and conversation and a young man who keeps apologizing to his companion about something before she eventually pushes back her plate and walks off. I want to tell them to talk it out because life is too short to waste time fighting, but who wants someone butting into their business. A grandfather stands at the glass window holding his grandson as they watch the process of beignet making before buying some of their own to eat. Another man is enjoying his pastry as he works on his computer. All of this is happening around me as I impatiently wait for time to pass so I can pick up my phone and be on my way.
I sit there thinking of all the things I need to be doing – typing and emailing meeting minutes, folding clothes, vacuuming. The list is growing in my head and on paper as I try to fill the empty time. The little train is rumbling around its track again. Different people are walking by. The mall is getting more active by the minute, the inside of the cafe becomes littered with confectioners sugar as beignets are consumed and hands are dusted off. Each bite ends with puffs of the confectionary powder filling the air and falling on every available surface.
One thing becomes clear. Without a phone to google answers to questions, or play on Facebook, or browse Instagram, I have been forced to disconnect from my electronic world and put pen to paper – literally. I know my arthritic hand will suffer later but it has been cathartic to sit and write, to enjoy the solitude of a strange place. I think I am beginning to understand the mysterious draw of the writer to the coffee shop.
It’s 12:25. Five more minutes before I can pick up my phone. With no phone to take a photo of my confection sugar mess, there will be no proof other than this story to prove I was here. It felt good to sit and write. I almost wish for more days like this – almost.
Did I mention five minutes? Well…I ended up with a new phone because the screen would not power up with the new battery. Then, instead of heading out as I had hoped, I was confined to a mere corridor of a store filled to the brim with people for another two hours! The phone needed to update and then download pertinent information before I could leave. So, there I sat, in a noisy, crowded room suffering from sensory overload, waiting for the phone to complete its task and at the same time fighting the urge to pull out ear plugs and mask so that I might have sat in much-needed silence…the life of an introvert.